Fate and Fortune
by Augusta Almeda
Summary: Complete.Rowena knew the only way to rise in the world for her was to have the right associations and marry well. Love was never a factor.Then she met Godric,and has a terrible choice to make: break Helga's heart or her own.R&R.
1. Arrival At Lanast

Author's Note: This is Part One of my tale of the Four Founders, as told by Rowena Ravenclaw. It came from a dream where I was Rowena, hours and hours of research, several re-readings of the Harry Potter series, several re-readings of _Ivanhoe_, and extensive time with my nose buried in a French/English dictionary. Still, it was fun. I know this probably isn't how J.K. Rowling planned it, but she probably is never going to write the real version, so I said, why not? There will be a sequel with the Founding itself in it, and then one or two further sequels.

Augusta

Disclaimer: If you recognize it from Harry Potter, then it belongs to J.K. Rowling. If you recognize it from Arthurian myth or historical incidents, then it belongs to European history. If there are other unconsious resemblances, I apologize and give the credit to the author. If it belongs in none of the above categories, then it's mine.

26 October, 1011 Anno Domini

A tall, black-haired girl of fifteen nodded graciously to her footman as he handed her down from her coach. Her old nurse, Madge, was next, followed by Madge's daughter Martha, who served the tall girl as a maidservant. Neither Madge nor Martha spoke a word, just stood behind their young mistress looking grim. They served Rowena Ravenclaw, and were no happier than she to be here.

Rowena looked over the small castle with its warm stones with a critical eye. Much larger than her father's small manor, it somehow seemed much less grand. She knew that she should be glad people of such a higher standing than a struggling knight from Glen would be willing to take in his daughter, but could not make herself like the cheerfulness of the place. She was used to the severity and elegance that she had grown up in and could not help but feel slightly contemptuos of the merry folk, the Hufflepuffs of Lanast.

The large front doors opened and two people came out. One, tall and dark-haired, was unmistakably Lady Gwyneth, Lord Hufflepuff''s reserved convent wife. Some suggested that it had been a love-match, ridiculous as that was, because they were so utterly different that no one could fathom him having her otherwise. Lady Gwyneth was well known for vey rarely smiling and for her sterness and piety. Lord Hufflepuff was known for his good-natured forgetting to do anything, including go to Mass, and constant good humor. By Lady Gwyneth's side was a girl who had to be her eldest daughter, Helga. Short, plump, and with a riot of unruly golden curls, she was practically hopping with excitement, her bright yellow gown contrasting sharply with her mother's dark gray. "Scandalous, Lady Rowena," Madge muttered to her. " If I was Lady Gwyneth, that slip of a thing would never be allowed outside until I beat some sense into her long enough for her to marry some fellow who had never seen her, lest he change his mind!"

" Hush," she said softly. " Helga Hufflepuff may be a ninny, but she's still higher ranking than me. You and Martha watch your tongues around these folk. I'll never tell them, but we would have starved in short order if Lord Hufflepuff hadn't remembered that his daughter was my brother's widow and that I was supposed to marry his son. You two may be turned out anyway, so don't give Lady Gwyneth a good reason. She won't be as lenitent as Lady Alienor." She saw no reason to keep calling the woman 'Mother' now that her father was dead. Alienor had raised Rowena right along with her two sons as her daughter until she and both boys were taken by the sweating sickness, but there was no forgetting that Rowena's mother had in fact been a Saxon beauty the dead master had been fond of. She had left when Rowena was only a year old, and all she knew of her was that, save for that the Saxoness had the pale hair and eyes of her own people, they looked alike and shared a name. But there was no time for musing. Lady Gwyneth was waiting at the head of the stairs. Touching her rosary with one long finger, she forced her face into a smile and walked toward the woman and her daughter.

Gwyneth looked at her as if summing her up. Rowena couldn't tell if she was pleased by what she saw or not. She gave a rare smile. " Welcome, Lady Rowena. I am Lady Gwyneth Hufflepuff and this-" she nodded at the girl- " is my daughter, Helga. We are pleased to have you he-"

Helga interrupted her. " Lady Rowena? How can you be Lady Rowena? You can't be married!"

"Helga!" Lady Gwyneth exclaimed. " Do you not know the meaning of manners? It's no fault of Rowena's that her father was only-er, was never very-" Gwyneth seemed to be at a loss for words.

" He was only a lowly knight," Rowena finished for her bluntly. " I should be nothing but Mistress Ravenclaw, with my brothers inheriting everything. I'm not married, and both my brothers died. I am called Lady Rowena instead of Lady Ravenclaw because, before her marriage, Lady Ravenclaw was Alienor of Gwynned, sister of King Leodegraunce and aunt of Queen Guinevere."

" Well!" Lady Gwyneth said, sounding slightly flustered. " You certainly know who your connections are, Rowena. I may call you Rowena, mayn't I?"

" Of course. I come here as a friend."

Talkative Helga,however,was not finished yet. " But Princess Alienor wasn't really your mother, was she? You're name's Saxon, and they say your real mamma was some Saxon witch who-"

" _Helga!_" Gwyneth exploded. " How dare you ask her that! As far as you and I are concerned, Alienor was Rowena's mother, and it would be no business of ours if she was not! She is Richard Ravenclaw's daughter, and will make a fine wife for one of your brothers, and if that is enough for your father, then it should be enough for you, miss. Now I see why I never sent you to my old convent to be educated with the rest. The Mother Abbess would never have stood for such antics."

Helga didn't seem to mind the lecture. " No, I don't think I would make a very good nun, not like Elisabeth. I learned enough from Enna when I went to Tintagel in the summers."

" Tintagel?" Rowena asked. " Isn't that the haunted palace?"

Lady Gwyneth smiled at her again, as if to apologize for her daughter. " Come inside, dear. Helga will tell you all about it. It's quite exciting, I never would have hoped half so much for her."

Helga chattered energetically to her all the way up to the rooms here that would be hers. When they walked in, Rowena could not stop herself from doing the slightest of double-takes. Helga looked at her quizzically. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. " I never had apartments this large back at home. My father was not poor, but then, he was not wealthy. He never knew what to do with a daughter. Most of my things belonged to Lady Alienor-from Madge to the dress I'm wearing." She fingered the dark sapphire cloth unconsiously.

" Madge?" Helga asked, totally comfortable in the large, well-appointed room. Rowena supposed she had always lived in far larger.

" My old nursemaid. She came from Gwynned with Lady Alienor. Her daughter Martha has been my maid for about three years now-since she was old enough to do a maid's work and I was old enough to need a maid." A note of anxiety slipped into her voice despite her efforts to stop it. " They can stay, can't they? They won't take much, and my father left me enough to see to their upkeep-" she cut off as Helga began to laugh.

" You thought we would take your servants? My goodness! We wouldn't think of it, not even Mama. This is your home too, now. Papa said that you're just like another sister, with Elisabeth decided to be a nun and the other three all married. I can't believe that they haven't married me off already instead of waiting on one fellow this long."

" You're betrothed?"

Helga laughed. " D'you remember what I said about Tintagel? Well, Lady Igraine, when she wedded King Uther and went off to live at Camelot, she gave Tintagel to her sister, Viviane.Viviane married Francis Gryffindor, from Gaul, and lived happily with him until she died. She was really an Avalon sorceress, and her eldest daughter, Lady Setiva, became one too. The others are all right, though, and they all still live at Tintagel with Francis. Marie won't marry, Sophia can't, and Godric-" Helga stifled a shrill giggle, blushing rather badly.

" Godric?" Rowena said, rather confused. " I always knew Avalon priestesses were strange, but who ever heard of calling their daughter Godric!"

Helga bent over, nearly collapsing with laughter. " No, no,no. Godric's Marie and Sophia's _brother_, silly."

Normally Rowena would have been none too pleased at being called silly by a girl who had been jumping up and down like a moonstruck idiot earlier over the arrival of someone she didn't even know, but now she felt pretty silly. She should have realized what Helga meant, but Helga _had_ implied that Francis Gryffindor of Gaul and the Avalon woman had only had daughters. " Well, what were you talking about? "

Helga gasped for air, bringing herself back under control. " I'm sorry. Oh, Godric. Well, I'm not betrothed-not formally, anyway, with the ceremony and all. But everyone knows that we're going to marry someday.Mama really wants this match, because the Gryffindors are even richer than we are. Your papa was about to seal a betrothal between your brother Manalran and Sophia Gryffindor- she doesn't talk, that's why no one'll have her, but I suppose your brother and papa thought she'd do- and another between you and my brother Edwain when the fever got all your family save you. Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Sorry? Sorry for what?"

" Mama always told me what a big mouth I have, and she told me a thousand times not to mention Sir Richard and Lady Alienor or your brothers or betrothals in front of you! I'm so sorry! Do say you'll forgive me, do!" She looked near tears.

" There is nothing to forgive," she said levelly. " I was spared by God from the illness for some reason of His own, and my family was taken to Heaven to dwell in peace, never to suffer again. It would be foolish as well as a sin to take offense from what you said. " What she didn't mention was the fact that she had cried every night since her father's death and that she already knew that she would eventually be forced to marry Edwain Hufflepuff.

Helga smiled brightly, obviously relieved, and began chattering about possible marriages again. "Mama liked you, you know. You showed her backbone and you didn't slap me silly for running my mouth about your mother. I think she might try to wangle it for you so you can marry Salazar instead of Edwain. I hope not. If you were to marry Edwain, then we would really be sisters! And besides, Salazar..." she broke off, looking, for the first time, uneasy.

" Who's Salazar?" Rowena had learned fast that Helga knew everything about everyone who mattered.

" Salazar Slytherin. His mother, Ana of Portugal, was the sister of Viviane Gryffindor. They died on the same day, imagine. Lord Francis took in Salazar and his sister Isabel and raised them with his own for Viviane's sake-Salazar was five, and Isabel was three.Their father was British, but he had nothing and died before Isabel was born. Salazar is a count in Portugal, and Isabel inherited some lands and was made a viscountess. Salazar would have split the title with her, but then what would his wife be? Godric was supposed to marry Isabel once, but said marrying me would already be too much like marrying a younger sister, and Isabel would be far worse. Besides, they'd never agree on titles. Things are different, it seems, is Gaul and Portugal as to what someone in a position is called." A shadow crossed Helga's cheerful face for a moment, and Rowena could have sworn she heard her mutter, "And again different on Avalon." She was sure she was mistaken a moment later when the shadow deepened as she began to speak again. " Salazar's all right, usually, but sometimes he frightens me. He gets strange black moods sometimes, and he-he-" she dropped her voice to a whisper. "_He speaks to snakes._" Rowena gasped, covering her mouth with one hand. She had studied magic enough under Merlin when he visited, as he so often did, to know that the gift of Parseltounge was no gift at all, but a mark of dark sorcery, or at least the potential for it. Merlin himself could speak with all animals, but he could not abide serpents.

' _They are the servants of all evil, my Ennaling,' _he had warned her, using the grandfatherly pet name he so often called her by. _' There is no good in the serpent-beast. I am no Christian, but does not your God tell of his enemy the Devil assuming that form?'_ She had tried to explain to Merlin about the Lord and Satan, but he waved it aside. He worshipped the Great Goddess, and nothing anyone, even Arthur Pendragon, said would convert him. _' Ennaling, I could converse with the serpent if I wished, but I will not, for it is an evil act and a sign of an impure soul. I have looked into your future and have seen-_ the old man had closed his eyes momentarily, fighting the ordinance placed on him that stopped him from telling anyone the instrument of their fate. _' Beware of the Serpentongue!'_ he had barked, departing with all haste for Camelot.

She was dragged ot of her reverie by Helga. "Sometimes he can't stop himself, but sometimes he does it on purpose, I'm sure he does. Godric's the only person who dosn't ever seem to think that he'll go mad and kill us all-but then, Godric never has been much on tellng folk what he thinks."

Rowena shuddered and hastily bid Helga to change the subject, as she was only too happy to do. Rowena lent only half an ear to Helga's prattle, her brain working furiously. Merlin's warning was echoing through her brain. _' Beware of the Serpentongue!'_ Was it only a coinsidence that some fellow in these parts she assumed from what she heard of Helga's chatter she would soon be aquainted with could speak to snakes? It was time to do some research.

" Helga," she said. " Do you have a good library in this castle?"


	2. A Conversation With Lord Godric

Author's Note: Rowena meets the Gryffindors and Slytherins, to summarize this chapter. Godric finds her facinating.

Augusta

Disclaimer: If you recognize it from Harry Potter, then it belongs to J.K. Rowling. If you recognize it from Arthurian myth or historical incidents, then it belongs to European history. If there are other unconsious resemblances, I apologize and give the credit to the author. If it belongs in none of the above categories, then it's mine. A note on ch. 1- the name Setiva, one of Godric's sisters, belongs to Brian Jacques. I had forgotten it was in there.

It turned out that, although the Hufflepuffs did have a library, it wasn't a very good one. None of them had any head for book learning with the sole exception of Helga's sister Elisabeth the nun. Lady Gwyneth had apparently often wished for books, but was too well-bred for asking her husband straight out. There were a great many stupid rules about what a well-bred lady could and could not do.

Despite the enormous difference between her life in Glen and her life at Lanast, she began to gradually fall into a kind of comfortable routine with the jovial Hufflepuffs and their way of living. She did find Lady Gwyneth to be one of her preferred companions, and not only because Gwyneth saw a great many things as she did. Gwyneth was adamant on the matter of Rowena not being rushed into the complex world of high society, a countryside noblegirl still in mourning. On one occasion, however, the old lord stood up to her.

" The entire Gryffindor clan is coming clean down from Tintagel, Gwen," he said stubbornly. "Rowena won't ever have a better chance at making her debut than then, if she can get the most powerful of the old wizard families behind her. And you needn't try the line about possibly ruining Helga's chances either. If Godric Gryffindor went head over heels for Rowena he'd nay marry her. Those French are as proud as Lucifer." Gwyneth's mouth thinned, but she had no possible answer.

Which was how Rowena found herself bundled into the first new gown she's had in years and her few jewels and standing a little behind Helga a month later, waiting to receive these wealthy visitors she had heard so much about. She could have stood beside Helga-indeed, Lord Anthony encouraged her to, expressing a desire to show off both of his 'lambs' as prettier than Miss Marie and Miss Sophia- but, aware of how Helga would want to shine alone as these people's kinswoman-to-be,she put herself where a charity dependant should stand- at the back.

They heard high-pitched laughter long before they actually saw the carriage, driven by both a wiry coachman and the irrepressable old gentleman Francis, who had a reputation for not being nearly as manners-obsessed as most of his people. Miss Marie and a striking girl who had to be the oft-mentioned Isabel. A third girl, dark, thin, and silent, was only too obviously the ever-silent Sophia. And, of course, the two younger gentlemen whom Helga prattled about almost to distraction.

Everyone was so enthusiastic in their greetings of old friends that Rowena, as the outsider, was totally ignored by everyone-except Sophia, who detatched herself from the knot of people around Helga in what appeared to be curiosity. Truth to be told, Rowena was rather interested in Sophia, this small, silent child who had been betrothed to her brother. Sophia either couldn't or wouldn't say a word, but her dark eyes seemed to be almost as communicative, and at the moment they were showing a friendly, timid liking.

" Who's that Sophie's talking to?" Miss Marie's high voice asked suddenly. " Surely Elisabeth hasn't abandoned the coif and veil! Besides, that girl's too thin and ugly to be Elisabeth. Elisabeth was prettier than_ that_ even if she did have hair as dark as old lady Gwyneth." Rowena could see Gwyneth flushing and felt her own cheeks burning at the insult, but neither said anything. Gwyneth needed her least-favorite daughter married into this family too much to offend even fast pieces like Marie, and Rowena was Marie's inferior by blood, birth, and looks. Confident in her golden-curled beauty and gold money, Marie could be as cruel as she wished. Rowena had inherited the unattracive dark looks of her father and little else. Helga, however, could and did react to the slight on her mother and 'sister'.

" You take every word of that back, Marie Gryffindor! Mama's not old, and Rowena's not thin and ugly. Besides, there's absolutely nothing wrong with having dark hair. Your own mother and sisters do!"

" Like you have any more notion than a goose about looking nice, Helga. Mother was an old haint, Setiva isn't much better, and Sophia's as ugly as a hobgoblin," the proud beauty said cooly.

Self-control schooled into her by Alienor and Madge for such eventualities made Rowena's face go into an expressionless, well-trained mask, but Sophia had apparently had no such childhood training. The girl's eyes shone with tears and hurt. " Now look what you've done," a decidedly out-of-temper man's voice with a trace of French accent that Rowena hadn't heard before said. " You've upset Sophie-bird and- Rowena?-Marie. Did you never pay attention to any of Enna's lectures on behavior, or are you that stupid that you heard all those times and missed the point all of them?" Marie went white with rage, especially when her father burst into laughter. The speaker came over to where Rowena and Sophia were standing with the girl Rowena thought was Isabel on his arm.

" Never mind Marie," he said in a low voice to Rowena. " She's entirely too much the belle of the dutchy for her own good. Faith, but if I could but bring her down a peg or six! Sophie-bird, never mind Marie. She's just jealous because she knows you're going to be prettier than her in a few years." Sophia smiled, her eyes adoring. " She likes you," he informed Rowena. " She wants you to talk to her and tell her about yourself. I've never seen her take to anyone so quickly."

Marie sniffed. " That's Godric for you, Helga. You're to marry a fool who thinks the world of charity relations and cross-eyed idiots one brick short of a load. I wish you all the happiness in the world. Ouch!" Helga had pinched her.

" And may it teach you a lesson in manners, Mistress Priss," Rowena muttered fiercely, but apparently not quite low enough. Isabel laughed right out loud, though laughter was forbidden to a well-bred lady. But Rowena, raised by a woman who had failed to think of rank only once in her miserable life, could see blood and breeding in Isabel as surely as she could see the cobblestones her feet stood on. The tall girl laid a hand on Rowena's arm, tip-tilted eyes sparkling with humor.

" Marie is as big a fool as was ever born," Isabel whispered, with the lilting drawl of a Portugese coast aristocrat clinging to the edges of her speech. " La, but if she could have heard you call her that! I believe we will be friends. I am also a-how did Marie phrase it, Godric?-charity relation?" The good humor remained, but was lined with bitterness. " That, I knew we shared in common from the moment I saw you allowing Helga all the attention. I also stand at the back of all family gatherings with my brother Salazar, because we both know that if Godric, Marie, and Sophia aren't necessarily better than us, they are the blood of the master of the house and we are only the niece and nephew of his wife he took in out of the kindness of his heart and could turn out on their ears any time he pleased.How came you here?"

" Lord Anthony's second daughter Marigan is the widow of my brother Hemalange, and I was supposed to have been married to Master Edwain Hufflepuff in good time, but my father and brothers all died and a unmarried girl of fifteen couldn't live alone. Where I come from, it would have been a scandal. I am Rowena Ravenclaw, Lady of Glen. I am presuming you are the Viscountess Isabel Slytherin?"

" I am. I have heard of you quite a great deal from a mutual aquaintance of ours you might not remember. I-" she cut off as the fellow next to her-Godric- said something in what Rowena thought was Portugese-which she didn't speak a word of. Isabel clapped her hands. " That is a wonderful idea! I can't believe I didn't think of it myself. Oh, what fun!" Isabel looked like a small girl in anticipation of a prank. Noting Rowena's curiousity, she smiled. " I can't tell you what that was about now, but I think you'll find it marvellous. And I have an idea for how to get that Marie back for her big mouth."

" I doubt I'm going to like this," Godric muttered. " The last time you tried to get up-one on Marie nearly got me run through by one of her thousand beaux."

" Well, that was an unfortunate incident. The worst thing that could come of this would be Lady Gwyneth and Helga getting a little out of temper with you, and if I explain to them they'll understand."

" Faith! I'd rather face twenty duels than Gwyneth in a temper!"

" Well, I'll tell her before this evening. You know that Lady Gwyneth hates Marie like a house-elf hates dust. She'd probably put up with anything to see the little hussy put in her place. Rowena, would you be a darling and wear your very best this evening to the party? "

" Of course," Rowena said, slightly confused. She had never had the sense of humor God gave a goat, in her father's words, and couldn't fathom any reason how she was dressed would help bring Marie down a few pegs. Her finest gown would probably be the equivalent of what Marie would wear to weed the garden-except, of course, that Marie had never weeded a garden. Sophia clapped her hands appreciatively, eyes sparkling. Isabel laughed again.

" You know exactly what old Belle's up to, don't you, Sophia?" she chuckled. " Well, don't tell anyone. It'll be lovely! I'm sure I can talk Uncle Francis into letting you come out tonight. You're twelve now, and if you're old enough to get married then you're old enough to go to a party. Come, now, we must race Helga upstairs. It would be a true shame if she ever managed to beat us." They dashed up the wide stairs together, leaving Rowena and Godric to climb them at a more sedate pace, Rowena feeling suddenly, for the first time in her life, shy.

" Isabel can work wonders with Sophia," he said conversationally. " Sophie took right to her, too. We're all hoping that one day Isabel will get her to talk, but Belle won't push her or nag her about it. That's why Sophie sets such store by us-we've learned to understand her without words and don't particuarly care if she talks or not."

" Her eyes," Rowena said without thinking. " It's like-they talk for her. "

" Exactly. No one knows why Sophia won't talk. She's never said a word or made a sound as far as anyone knows, though all the Healers Father's hauled in say she should be able to talk any time she wants to. There's nothing wrong with her mind- she's as sharp as anyone, more than some-but she can't or won't speak. Father considered your brother Manalran to be a gift from God for agreeing to marry Sophia anyway, but he died."

" My father considered Sophia to be a gift from God. He hated talkative women, and there weren't many girls raised in the old way to be silent unless spoken to. 'A woman has no business with having opinions or choices. Women are weak, foolish, sin-tainted creatures who should let themselves be guided by their fathers, husbands, and brothers.' Marigan used to get beatings for airing her opinions, and I learned quick that if I wanted a whole hide and any of my father's affection, I'd spend the rest of my life being controlled by him, my brothers, and whatever man he married me off to. Fair trade exists only in storybooks."

" It would be a true pity if you actually felt that way, Miss Rowena-I may call you by your first name, mayn't I?-because you seem to have as much or more intelligence than any man in shoe leather, and spirit to go with it. But I've a suspicion you don't. Am I correct?"

" I don't suppose there's much a woman couldn't do on her own if she set her mind to it, monsieur. Just because Eve was a stone-blind fool doesn't mean all women are. Myself, I always thought it was a little stupid that I had to act like I was one of the dogs, without any brains or tongue. I was my father's pet, but I knew I was never allowed to disagree with him one jot, or at least not speak of it even if I did know more than he did about a matter. Father's probably turning in his grave at the knowledge that little Ennaling with her nice manners and no more sense of humor than God gave a goat and utter deference should be his only heir! Fortunatlely, I learned a lot about how to manage and govern a people. I watched him when he didn't know I was watching.He would have rawhided me if he had known." She stopped, shocked. Speaking that frankly to a man, and a gentleman who outranked her,too! Alienor was probably writhing with shame even in far-away Heaven!

" 'Tis rare to see a girl who can put things into plain words and doesn't flinch at truths. Helga's a darling, but she'd have giggled and fluttered and talked on tangents till I lost any notion of what she was on about. I hope to see more of you, Miss Rowena." They reached the top of the stairs and she was startled when he kissed her hand, gentleman to lady of equal rank. Suddenly confused, she hurried upstairs. It was going to take Madge, Martha, and several hours to turn her out if she really was going to the welcoming party Anthony had insisted on in her best finery.


	3. Let the old cats talk!

Disclaimer: If you recognize it from Harry Potter, then it belongs to J.K. Rowling. If you recognize it from Arthurian myth or historical incidents, then it belongs to European history. If there are other unconsious resemblances, I apologize and give the credit to the author. If it belongs in none of the above categories, it's mine

Sitting in one of the little bowers in the corners of the ballroom meant for widows, matrons, and confirmed old maids, Rowena smiled at the party with real pleasure. She and Gwyneth had driven themselves to the point of distraction to ready this room and the others that would be needed for the party in time. _We didn't do a bad job,_ she thought. She could see a small group-this was a very small, family party, almost- complimenting Gwyneth on the decorations. One of the more stolid local lady matrons, Lady Jelansen, was going on at some length over how much she liked the way the flowers had been arranged over the windows and in arches over the bowers. Gwyneth's quiet, slow, aristocratic voice finally rose above them all. " All of you ladies are very kind to compliment my home so, but I must let the credit go where it is due. All I did was simply organize the servants. All the design work was done by my dear Lady Rowena."  
" Lady Rowena?" Lady Jelansen asked. " Who is she? I've never heard of her. Is she here, Gwen?"

Lady Gwyneth tilted her head in the direction of where Rowena was sitting. " Just over there, Sandy." Before Rowena could move, the gaggle of ladies was surrounding her.

" My dear, you simply must tell me who you are, " Lady Jelansen said pompously. " It is interesting to see such attention to detail and nicety in one so young."

Rowena felt her chin tilt back with pride, the pride of a small house scorning to take the charity it so desperately needed from anyone. " Lady Rowena Ravenclaw, from Glen. My father was the local knight-lord, and my mother was Lady Alienor of Gwynned. I believe your husband, Lady Jelansen, is the knight who is given to run one of the smaller villages under my lord Anthony's protection?I have not been here long enough to learn everyone's name and position."

Lady Jelansen colored at the unwelcome reminder that her husband was in fact in control of the smallest of the Hufflepuff liege-villages." Indeed. And am I to understand that a mouthy slip of a girl such as yourself has such a title and has to live as a charity relation?"

" Lord Anthony and Lady Gwyneth have been very kind to me," she said quietly, quiet as her father had been quiet just before he killed someone. " I am with them because it would have caused a scandal for an unmarried woman to live alone where I come from. If you will excuse me, I must go see what it is that Helga is so excited about." Gliding off, she knew she would be in for sharp words later, but at the moment she couldn't bring herself to care.

Helga was flushed with pleasure and giggling. She had had no hand in the work, because, as Gwyneth had contemptuously said, Helga had never so much as put on a pair of stockings on by herself. Helga had been reared in the tradition that honest work made nice people into common street trash, unlike her convent-raised mother and sustinance-raised adopted sister. Dispassionately, Rowena wondered why blondes did like such gaudy, inappropriate dresses. Helga, Marie Gryffindor, and all the other blonde girls at the party were all in bright silks and laces that bared their shoulders. But then, they weren't old maids in the making.

" You won't believe what I just heard from Gwendolyn," she gasped. "She heard it from Margot, who heard it from Jeanelle, who heared it from Isabel, who heard it from Marie, who heard it from a servant who heard it from Lord Francis."

Rowena laughed. " After all those people passing it down, I don't know how far I'd believe it, myself."

" Oh, Rowena, don't say that! Not when I'm so happy!"

" Well, what on Earth didGwendolyn say?" Thinking hard, Rowena managed to attatch a face to the name.Gwendolyn was thedaughter of the manager of Fairhill, one of the larger villages, and, if Rowna remembered her rightly,a shy, reserved young woman who had all the gumption of a goose.

" She says that the whole reason the Gryffindor clan came down here was to finalize the betrothal between me and Godric, if we're both amenable. "

Rowena laughed, sharing in Helga's delight. " How lovely! I know how fond of him you are."

" Perhaps we could make it a double wedding with you and Edwain."

Rowena felt all the blood drain from her face. No mention of a match between herself and Helga's brother had been made since the day she had arrived. Truth to be told, she rarely saw any of the four tall men except at mealtimes and Edwain had certainly never tried to win her favor. She had made up her mind that she would die an old maid, because she'd rather be an old maid and have people call her a poor dear and maybe be sent to a convent than married off for politics. Misconstructing her sudden blanch, Helga patted her arm soothingly.

" No need to worry about that. Do forgive me. I was thoughtless. Of couse you should have your own wedding. Here, darling, you must sit by me. That's such a pretty dress, much too pretty to sit with the old maids in. Why, I wager you'll collect more beaux than me and Marie put together!" The ninny thought Rowena thought she was saying Rowena couldn't afford a wedding of her own!

Rowena didn't know about collecting more fellows than Helga and Marie together, but she did know that Helga wasn't just being flattering when she complimented her. Black haired and eyed or not, she was pretty tonight and saw absolutlely no reason not to advertise the fact even if she could possibly lessen Helga's popularity. No one but Rowena and Gwyneth even suspected it, but the real reason for Helga's popularity was her money, because even the tightest stays and widest skirts would make her look anything but short and plump, and her face was pretty at best, not the degree of beauty needed to attract so many. Although Rowena didn't know it and wouldn't have believed it if anyone told her, a great many of the local swains were wondering about her, for there was something mysterious and almost foreign about an unusually tall young woman, her hair dressed with moonstones, a new-made dress of midnight blue with a matching set of sapphires set in silver of Gaelic design, and Alienor Ravenclaw's best white watered silk shawl hanging low on her arms. Such notions would have pleased her vanity excessively, but her raising would convince her there was not a jot of truth in them, because at no time before or since had such a low approval rate been attatched to a woman who was entirely herself, and only one time was it equaled.

Helga began to giggle again when the musicians signalled that it was time for the dancing to begin. Rowena's smile faded a little. She loved dancing, but since she was still in mourning for her family and as good as engaged, she was guaranteed to have to sit them all out unless Edwain suddenly took a liking to dancing,which was about as likely as Rowena the Saxoness walking in and announcing in the Saxon language that she was claiming her daughter and all these Britons-to-the-death understanding. A snake-slim, dark little man with shrewd eyes and an accent like Isabel's but much heavier automatically, and to everyone's shock, claimed_ Helga_ for the first dance. _That must be Salazar who talks to snakes,_Rowena thought to herself._He _does_ have a peculiar look to him, doesn't he? Almost as if he were looking at people as if to figure out how to stick a knife in them!_ She hoped very much she wouldn't be stuck marrying him. Edwain was unfriendly and could get lickered up faster than anyone she had ever met, but something about the way Salazar Slytherin's eyes had lingered on her for a moment had given her the odd feeling that he knew what she looked like without her shift!

_Mother Alienor's probably turning in her grave this instant, if I've forgotten propriety enough to think_ that_, on top of talking like a man this morning,_ she thought with a grin at the expression that would have been on Alienor's face at the idea. _It's not as improper as that fellow dancing with Helga when she's as good as engaged to his first cousin, anyway. Why does one have to be such a stupid ninny to catch a husband and be a lady?_

" As my betrothed-to-be is rather happily engaged with my cousin and it was my sister who was so catty to you this morning, Lady Rowena, will you allow me to make up for Marie and while away this waltz with you? It really is a fine waltz, and you look like you're about to go mad from wanting to dance it." Startled, she looked up and saw Godric Gryffindor.

She couldn't help but smile a bit. So this was Isabel's joke! " Propriety and manners would have me send you packing without delay, my lord," she said, faking demurity, then laughed. " To the devil with propriety and manners! I haven't danced in six months, and Edwain Hufflepuff would probably be a horrible dancer even if he wasn't drunk as a fiddler at his sweetheart's wedding to his worst enemy. If Helga can dance, then so can I. Let the old cats talk!"

" Old cats? I've never heard a more apt description of every matron here with the exception of the amicable Lady Gwyneth who, like yourself, is a woman of rare spirit. I don't think there's another woman here under forty who'd have the nerve to think of them as old cats, never mind say it aloud. Have you met Lady Jelansen? She might well be the worst of them. "

" Indeed I have. Your sister Miss Marie will in all probability be the only girl here tonight who'll be able to best her once she becomes a matron."

" Lady Jelansen's title of Chief Old Cat is safe, then. Marie enjoys being a belle too much to ever become a matron and spend all her life in dull silks and front parlours with all the other matrons. She'll keep on and on until she's an old maid and Father puts her in a convent somewhere. Can you picture Marie as a nun?"

Rowena laughed aloud at the very idea, and he laughed with her. " Oh, goodness! Miss Marie in the coif and veil and tending to the sick and needy and so forth! I don't mean to insult your sister, my lord, but-" she broke off, giggling as hopelessly as Helga at the image of a _very_ disgruntled Marie in a nun's robe, shrieking at the Mother Abbess that she couldn't make her scrub floors or tend the sick-it would ruin her hands!

" Would you answer me two questions, Miss Rowena?"

" Certainly, if I know the answers."

" For one thing, why do you go on calling Marie and Sophia 'miss' and me 'my lord'? "

"BecauseI wasn't raised in a barn. All three of you-and Miss Isabel and her brother-outrank me by no little bit. My old nursemaid, Madge, would probably still wear me out if she ever knew how frank I'm being, never mind calling all of you by your right names. Things like that get out, you know. They'd be saying I was fast and my whole reputation would be ruined and not even a drunk like Edwain would have me! Oh, goodness! Do you always try to trick people into saying things they had no intention of ever saying?"

" I take pleasure in making women like yourself and the charming Gwyneth actually say what they think instead of what society wants them to say. And call me Godric. You've already said that you don't care if the old cats see you dance, so why should you care if they hear you calling a guest whom the dear Helga is so terribly fond of by his proper name? And you still owe me the answer to my second question. May I call you Rowena without the ridiculously respectful 'miss' or 'lady' in front of it? "

" People will think you're after me, and Lady Gwyneth would probably throw me out, she wants you to marry Helga so bad. Would you have me ruined and left to starve on my little estate in Glen, my l-Godric?"

" If it came to that, I'd marry you just to make the old lady look a fool. You're quite pretty enough to marry. Prettier than Helga, at any rate."

" How unchivalrous of you! For shame!"

" Helga's a darling, of course, but a rather foolish darling most of the time. She's been raised to be these days' idea of a lady, and these days' idea of a lady is my idea of a slave. A woman can either be a lady and a slave to a million rather insensible rules on behavior, or she can tell them all to go to Halifax and be herself and be a pariah too. Something tells me you'll be one who tells your own dear betrothed-to-be to go to the devil and stay there. You will shock Lady Gwyneth, break Helga's heart, genteely starve to death in Glen, and thank God you had enough sense to prefer starvation to old Edwain. Am I right, Rowena?"

" Of course not. It would take courage, a virtue I sadly lack. All I have is intelligence, too much book intelligence for a well-bred lady, according to the rules you spoke of. No, I'd have to fall so far in love as to be out of my senses to tell Edwain and all the folks that want me to marry him to go to the devil, though I'd surely like to. But, as you said, it would break Helga's heart-and hearts like Helga's are too valuable to be broken."

He looked at her curiously, apparently very interested. " Pray explain. "

" Helga-she's like a child, an unconcerned, well-meaning, high-spirited child. She's old enough to have a husband and babies, but she's still a little girl. Helga's never lost anything or anyone she loves, she's never had to fight a losing fight just to keep bread on the table, she hasn't had to become the mistress of a noble House at ten years old, she's never had to do or bear anything she didn't want to. She can still see the world as a happy, comfortable place. She's never seen dishonor or cruelty or deprivation or loss, so she doesn't know what they are and can't imagine them. Too few people have that today, Godric. Helga and those like Helga shouldn't ever go into the world, because that means heartbreak and the loss of that-innocence-that's part of their very souls and sanity. If Helga ever saw the world as it truly is, it would break her, shatter the very core of her being. She's happy and comfortable, and the idea that others might not be happy and comfortable is incredible to her. I think I shocked her to death when I first came here, before I realized that the world would be safe for a little while-or at least, safer than it has been."

" You've gone through hell and came back more than once, haven't you?"

Rowena smiled, but there was little humor in it. " Gone through hell and came back? Godric, I never left hell; I just moved from one hell to another. First I had to assume the duties of a matron while I was still a child, and now I'm going to have to spend years as a charity in-law until I'm forced into a marriage I'd rather die than enter. Mary Virgin's Mantle! If it weren't the only unforgivable sin, I think I might have opened my own veins the day my father died." The last notes of the waltz faded away. " Oh, dear. What a pity! I suppose I'll have to sit, now. You do dance well."

" Perhaps you'll not be forced back into the bowers with the old ladies and old maids. Salazar seems to be much to taken in by Helga's charms to relinquish her any time soon for all she can't dance at all, and the next one is a pavanne. Do you know it?"

" Yes-but Lady Gwyneth- all the local ladies-"

" I was under the impression you didn't care what the old cats said about you."

Something made her tilt her chin with the same prideful way she had with Lady Jelansen. " I don't. My father used to brag that I danced the best pavanne in Glen. It will be interesting to see how I stand up to Helga and the girls near Tintagel."

Later that evening, when they were brushing each other's hair for bed, Helga was unusually quiet. Finally, she spoke, only too obviously trying to sound offhand and unconcerned and failing miserably. " You seemed to be having quite a good time with Godric, Rowena." There was a pause, as if Helga was wondering about how wise it would be to rouse sleeping dogs further. " He didn't speak to anyone else all evening." The unspoken words 'not even me' hung in the air. Comprehension came to the quick, intelligent mind that had been her father's secret pride and the largest of her unladylike tendancies he had worked so hard with Madge to conceal, and she turned around to squeeze Helga's hand comfortingly.

" You don't have to worry about me stealing your betrothed, Helga. Indeed, I should have just sat with all the other old maids like a good girl, but- I always loved to dance, but it's been three years since there was time for things like that, and I haven't even been able to go in public for six months because I was in mourning. I know my duty, and I accept that even if I was so misguided as to want anything for myself that I can't have it. It was wrong of me to let myself enjoy even one evening, but I-no, I won't say it won't happen again. I'm not married, and I'm in no position to be refusing anyone who asks me for a dance and I've no inclination to say nothing but 'yes, and three sacks full' and ' I really don't know anything about such matters' or any of the other polite hypocrisies. I won't let myself fall in love with your Godric or anyone else, but I won't act like I'm stupid or dead either."

" Rowena!"

" And don't tell me I'm being unladylike, Helga," she added irritably. " I know that perfectly well, and I'm going to have to hear it from Lady Gwyneth and all the other old haints in these parts, which is quite enough times for me, thank you very much."

" Oh, well... I understand, dear. Forgive me. I shouldn't have said anything. I'll talk to Mama for you. You were right, it would have been ill-bred to refuse, just like I couldn't refuse Salazar even though I don't like him very much. "

" I'm the one who should be apologizing, for being cross with you."

" No crosser than Mama is every time I'm in the same room with her. But, Rowena..."

" Yes?"

" What were you two talking about?"


	4. Isabel's Plan

Author's Note: Well, as I have a request to finish this in original form, I will. It's completed but not posted, so stay tuned for the adventures of the Founders as they struggle with the society they were born into.

Augusta

Disclaimer: See previous chapters; my possessions haven't changed.

Isabel Slytherin sent up a note that she would be taking her tea with Helga and Rowena, and sure enough, no sooner had the tea tray been laid out, she appeared, smiling and begging their pardon for being a little late. Once she was seated, she got right to the point. " Were you amused by my joke last night, Rowena?"

" Your joke? Pray explain."

" Having Godric pay so much attention to you. Needless to say, the look on Marie's face was fully worth those long lectures on decorum all three of us got from Uncle Francis, because he knows that Godric and Salazar would never think up something like that by themselves, so that left me as the real culprit. She looked like she had just seen a bad lady in her garters!" All three of them burst into laughter at the notion. "Of course, I think Godric did actually like you, Rowena, quite a lot. The plan was to hang around you just long enough for Marie to get worried she _might_ wind up with someone she had snubbed for a sister. Marie never could forget a slight, so she doesn't think anyone else can either. Oh, and did you know that Salazar fell quite in love with you last night, Helga?"

Helga giggled shrilly. " Who said that?"

" Salazar, of course! D'you take me for a mind reader, Helga? I wouldn't be at all surprised if he doesn't propose." Rowena saw Isabel's face suddenly fall into serious, thoughtful lines. " You could do far worse than my brother, you know."

" I suppose so," Helga replied politely, but you could almost hear her say that she could do far better too.

They spent the rest of tea talking about the party and everyone's dresses and who danced with who and whether or not it was true thatLord Hamildon's daughterwas going to have her dead fiance's baby and be put in a convent. When she left, Helga's slightly ruffled feathers had been smoothed down now that she knew the whole affair of the night before had been an elaborate practical joke, and Rowena found a folded slip of paper had been pushed beneath her napkin. Something about the flowing script made her think it had been Isabel who wrote it.

_'Tis a dangerous game you play, Rowena Ravenclaw, and I approve wholeheartedly. As one opporotunist to another, you're taking high-stakes gamble, but you may win yet. Life had knocked both of us down, but we got back up again and told them all to go to hell and made our own way in the world. I would ask you to meet me in the south garden at noon, near the roses. I believe we could both profit._

Thinking as quickly as she could, Rowena ran through her options. _I believe we could both profit..._ what was that supposed to mean? And what did Isabel mean when she said she played a dangerous game? She was certain that behind Isabel's laughter and deceptively innocent black eyes was a realist as uncompromising as herself and perhaps nearly as manipulative. Manipulation was as necessary as breathing for a charity relation who wanted to be somebody. _As one opporotunist to another...I approve wholeheartedly...a high-stakes gamble, but you may win yet...told them all to go to hell and made our own way..._ She made her decision.

Isabel nodded approvingly when Rowena approached her in the south garden at noon. " I am glad you came, Rowena. "

" What is it you wish to say to me that you won't say in front of Helga? And what did you mean by saying I was playing a dangerous game?"

" Helga can't keep her mouth shut for the life of her; she doesn't know the meaning of 'secret'. Besides, innocents like Helga would be horrified to hear me speak on this matter. She's too much of a lady. You and I, though, are not ladies-we're opporotunists."

" What are you getting at, Isabel?"

Isabel smiled pleasantly. " I've been blessed with two brothers, Rowena. One, as you know, is Salazar. I fear that I have little use for him, however. The other is Godric, who isn't really my brother at all. He's been far better to me than my own brother has. I never forget a kindness. I owe him one, so to speak. You have a sister who is not a sister-Helga. Helga has been very kind to you, has she not?"

" Yes."

" She feels sorry for you, I think. On one hand, there's her-all but married into a great family, rich, provided for and protected. Then on the other hand, there's you-poor, alone, and likely to be an old maid. She loses nothing by being sisterly."

Rowena laughed shortly. " You mean to tell me that Helga has alterior motives? I was not born yesterday. Of course she pities me. I have managed to make myself seem rather pitiable, haven't I?"

Isabel nodded. " Exactly why I said you were playing a dangerous game. You make them think you are harmless. A very good tactic, used carefully. One wrong move, though..."

" It all blows up in my face. Did you ask me down here to repeat to me what we both learned as children?"

" No." Isabel leaned forward as if for greater privacy, tugging her shawl around her. "I told you I owed Godric a favor. I told you I wanted to work with you. The two go together, Rowena. Godric wants you, and you and I need him to be anyone besides trash on our kindred's coattails."

Rowena stared at her in frank astonishment. " He wants me to be his whore?"

"No," Isabel said shortly. " He wants you to be his wife. Godric has little use for whores;he considers them too low to associate with. A wife, though... You have enchanted him, Rowena of Glen. "

Rowena laughed." He barely knows me."

" He knows your sort-you're like him. Helga is not. I don't believe he'd have Helga on a silver platter."

" He'll have her on no sort of platter if his family commands it," Rowena said cooly. " All any of us can do is obey."

Isabel laughed then. " Not Godric. He makes his own way-again, like you. Come, now. Would it be so horrible to get to know the man and see if you could love him? At worst you would gain a friend and ally. What do you have to lose?"

" My reputation, such as it is," she answered dryly. " Apart from that, I'd welcome this idea with open arms. Godric is quite charming."

Isabel's eyes sparkled with mischief. " I can make it happen. Everyone thinks Godric will marry Helga. Everyone thinks Salazar will marry you after last night. What if the four of you met together of a week until we leave and wrote until you met again? No one could compromise your reputation with that."

Rowena considered. What did she have to lose, after all? " Very well," she said. " But it must be done carefully."


	5. Meetings and Correspondances

Author's Note: For those who're on my Author Alert list, the title of the Hawkwing story will be changed soon. I've found it necessary to split it into two stories because of the eventual length.

Augusta

Rowena smoothed her skirts self-consiously as she sat down in one of the great padded armchairs in the library. This was the agreed-upon meeting spot and the agreed-upon time. Where were the other three?

" Ah, Rowena. Good to see I wasn't the first. It's rather awkward, being first to a meeting, isn't it?"

She whirled around in her chair, and laughed when she saw that it was only Godric. " I've always found it so, because in Glen the first to arrive is the one who has to lead the meeting. I'm no leader."

He settled down in the chair beside her. " Salazar'll be along shortly. He's out looking for some of his...friends. Did Helga tell you about Salazar's friends?" Rowena wasn't able to suppress a shudder as she nodded. " Salazar isn't as black as he's painted, you know. He's had it rough, and it did...things...to his head. Things that may be his undoing in the end." He smiled at her unease. " Don't worry, he's sane. I have the Sight, as Merlin calls it. Have you ever met Merlin?"

" He taught me all I know about magic." Her voice dropped into a conspirital whisper even here. What she, and Godric and Salazar and Helga and everyone else in the castle,was was enough to lead to burning on a stake if you weren't from Avalon or Merlin.Guinevere was a devout Christian; she had little love for Christian wizards and witches. " You?"

" Him, and Mother, before she died. Did Helga tell you about my mother? Yes, I can see by your face that she did. Viviane of Avalon was no Christian, for all she married one and mothered three. My sister Setiva went to Avalon years ago, to be a priestess. Don'tknow much about that, butI do know she was initiated into their society this year and she'll be coming back to Tintagel this summer."

" Is Tintagel really haunted? I've always wondered."

Godric shrugged. " What place isn't, one way or another? Most of Tintagel's fame is from the mists, though. It's said that Avalon lies through them if you know the way; I've never wanted to find out, frankly. Sometimes it seems you see human figures glowing and moving through the mists, like ghosts. Maybe they're real, maybe not. Their wailing's been part of life since people've been there; you adjust to our ghosts after a while."

" You two are as thick as thieves, Godric. What are you talking about?" Rowena jumped. Salazar Slytherin was standing right behind her, and she had never heard a thing. Godric smiled.

" Salazar! Sit, sit. Rowena and I were just discussing the ghosts of Tintagel. How'd it go with your friends, brother?"

" Well enough," Salazar said carefully, lowering himself into a chair. " They were surprised to meet a human who could speak their language." He gave a mirthless laugh. " Very surprised indeed." He looked at Rowena. " I am dazzled by beauty," he said in a low voice. " Surely you are some Aphrodite instead of a mere woman, my lady Rowena."

" Salazar's a poet," Godric explained.

Rowena smiled. " I'm no Homeric goddess, I fear. Only a woman. I am pleased to meet you, Count Slytherin."

He waved the title away. " Please, call me Salazar."

" Call me Rowena."

" Call me late!" Helga giggled, hurrying over to them and sitting down in the last chair. " I'm sorry, really I am. I was thinking the loveliest thoughts, and I just lost track of the time." The other three exchanged looks. They all knew Helga well enough to know how daydreamy she could be.

" It's all right, Helga," Rowena said, patting her arm. " So long as you're here now." An awkward silence decended after a moment. " Well," she said with false brightness. " I guess we all know why we're here." Only she and, presumably,Godric knew the real reason, but Isabel had to have supplied some reason to Helga and Salazar.

" In the interest of promoting good will, as we'll all be related by marriage sometime not too distant," Salazar said promptly. " At least, that's what Isabel said. It was her who came up with the whole idea, with some help from Godric."

" That means we're your welcoming committee, Rowena," Godric said bluntly. Salazar glared. He obviously didn't like having his speeches interrupted.

Helga giggled imbecilically. " So, what're we going to talk about?"

And so it was started. Before long, the meetings had gone from once a week to every day. Rowena couldn't remember ever feeling so close to anyone as she did to her three friends. All too soon, it was time for the Gryffindors and Slytherins to go back to Tintagel.

" We'll write," Godric said, hugging her despite the impropriety of it.

" As often as possible," Salazar added, kissing her hand. Rowena could see the wheels turning in Marie's head.

" Remember what I told you, " Isabel whispered. " And I'll write." Sophia tugged on Isabel's sleeve. " Sophia says she'll write too," Isabel added.

The center of Rowena and Helga's lives became waiting for letters from their far-away friends. It wasn't long before Rowena started to see a difference between the letters to Helga and the ones to her. Helga's letters were uniformly cheerful; her own had a more somber tone. Godric and Sophia's letters she read the most carefully.

Sophia was remarkably articulate on paper, and she had a fine hand. Her letters spoke of bitterness, especially against Marie. It both amused and saddened Rowena that the girl had come to see her as a cross between older sister and mother substitute; Sophia had never known Viviane or Setiva and Marie was a cruel, merciless person beneath her beauty and wealth. _I tell you, Rowena, and may whatever God or Goddess is truth blight me if I lie,_ she wrote,_ Marie does not deserve what fortune has given her. Why is it that some, like Marie and Helga, are blessed while others, like you and me, are cursed?_

Godric's letters spoke of a philisophical mind and discontent with his lot. _I know my duty, dear friend. Duty is second only to faith. I was taught that from my cradle, but sometimes I cannot make myself believe it. Why must happiness always be pushed aside? Damnation, Rowena, what is the point of fighting then refusing to take what you fought for? Many times I have wished for something more, something not tied to being the scion of a noble House. Not bound to duty. I cannot love, for it would be to break with duty. Oh, God, it is a long fight! Why is it the Lord's will that I must always be denied?_

Through the winter and spring, the letters continued. Then, just as spring ended and summer began, a letter came to Lady Gwyneth in a hand Rowena didn't recognize. " Lord Francis had invited you back to Tintagel, Helga. I trust that you accept?" Helga tripped over her own tongue accepting. Rowena was just resigning herself with being alone till fall when Gwyneth spoke again. " The invitation is also extended to you, Rowena. Will you go?"

Rowena stared at her in amazement. " They want me?"

Gwyneth glanced at the letter and nodded. " Beyond any doubt. It's as plain as the nose on my face. '_Our dear Helga is invited for the summer as always, of course, and this year, Gwen, I will take the liberty of asking Lady Rowena to Tintagel also.' _Are you going to accept?"

" Of course, " she heard herself say. Helga gave a squeal of delight and began babbling about dresses and maids and other travel necessities. Gwyneth cut her off with one sharp gesture.

" Rowena, may I speak with you alone?"

" Of course," she said again, and followed Gwyneth out into the hallway. Gwyneth didn't look as if she knew quite what to say.

" Rowena, you know I'm fond of you," she said kindly. " Very fond. But Helga is my daughter."

" What are you saying?" Rowena asked slowly.

" Godric Gryffindor is the only chance Helga has of making a good marriage. No one else will have her. You're beautiful and intelligent, where Helga is neither for all her fair hair and blue eyes. I want you to step aside, Rowena, and clear the path for Helga."

" You mean stay here."

" No,child," Gwyneth said. " I want you to go. But I don't want you to come back unless it's de facto betrothed to Salazar Slytherin. If you can't manage it through the art of courtly love, then trip him up so he'll have to marry you."

" Lady Gwyneth! Would you have me doom my immortal soul to hell?"

Gwyneth shook her head. " I apologize, Rowena. I went too far. If you can't manage Salazar, then as soon as the two of you come home, I'll see about betrothing you to Edwain."

Rowena swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly very dry. " And if I refuse?"

Gwyneth smiled without a hint of amusement. " You don't, Rowena. That is the whole point of the matter."


	6. Tintagel

Author's Note: Thanks for all the reviews and do tell me what you think of this installment!

Disclaimer: The usual, and the name Setiva comes from Brian Jaques's Redwall series. Don't ask.

Rowena couldn't help but gape like a country bumpkin when she saw Tintagel. The enourmous castle sat on a cliff overlooking a huge lake, mist shrouding it and half the cliff. The Mists of Avalon, they were called, and for good reason. It could have been her imagination, but Rowena thought she saw the Tor, the Hill of Avalon, looming darkly through the fog once. She shivered. Avalon was a place decent people avoided mentioning.

Lord Francis, as short, bosterious, and irrepressible as ever, stood waiting for them. Beside him stood a tall woman. Long black hair fell past her waist. Her robe was of deep blue and her cloak deep green, colors very difficult and costly to make, never mind so finely. A belt of woven silver encircled her waist, and a small sickle-shaped dagger hung from it, hilt wrapped in silver wire and with a pommel of a clear, pale-blue stone. The sheathe was also silver,and set with more of the same stones.A necklace in the shape of a crecent moon hung at her throat. Her face had an ageless quality to it, and her large black eyes carried wisdom. Perhaps it was her strong resemblance to Godric, but Rowena was sure of who she was before Helga murmured in her ear, " That's Setiva."

Setiva glode around her father, effectively cutting him off in midsentance. " Helga," she said, her voice low for a woman. " It is my pleasure to meet you at last in the flesh." Setiva smiled when she saw Helga shudder at the thought of how Setiva knew her for all they had never met. " And you must be Rowena. Yes, I have heard a great deal about you, child. Come. The others are waiting." Totally ignoring Francis, she glode off. Helga and Rowena followed.

It was complete confusion when they reached the library, with all the hugging and exclamations. Setiva stood to one side, looking faintly contemptuos.

" Have you any change of heart on the plan?" Isabel whispered as she hugged her.

" No," Rowena whispered back. " But if it's going to work, we have to move fast. Gwyneth will see me engaged to Salazar or Edwain before the snows fall. She realizes I'm a threat to Helga's marriage."

Isabel bit her lip. " All right," she said softly. " I have a plan. Don't go to sleep tonight. "

" If you expect me to do with Godric what Gwyneth suggested I do with Salazar, Isabel-"

" No. You'll not have to bed him down. Leave it to me." They had to raise their voices to normal volume then, so that no one would be suspicious. From the look Setiva was giving them, she plainly was. The Priestess of Avalon swept over.

" What are you two playing at?"

" Playing at?" Isabel said innocently. " Nothing. Just friends catching up, Tiva."

Setiva laughed shortly. " You two may fool the world with your innocent charity kindred act, but you're not fooling me. What are you up to?"

Isabel glanced around. "All right," she said quickly. " You win, Setiva. Meet me here after dinner. Ah, Helga! What a lovely dress, my dear." Setiva and Rowena were left facing each other.

" I have the Sight in some strength," Setiva said quietly. " The Foretelling, some call it. I will not be ashamed to call you my sister one day, Rowena Ravenclaw. " She smiled mysteriously and swept off.

Although it was in no way cold, Rowena shivered.

* * *

A clock chimed somewhere in the castle. Midnight. Rowena stifled a yawn. Where was Isabel?

As if her thought had been a summons, the door opened. Isabel slid in, followed by Setiva. The silver of Setiva's belt and necklace shone in the dim moonlight; she was still fully dressed save for the intricatly embroidered cloak." Why's she here?" Rowena muttered to Isabel.

Isabel shrugged helplessly. " She wanted in on it, Rowena. What could I do?"

" Nothing, of course, " Setiva herself said sharply. " Which is about all we'll be able to do to save Rowena from Salazar or Edwain if we don't move quickly."

They slipped out, their dark features and clothing serving as very good camoflauge. Moving on tip-toe with the other two, Rowena couldn't help but feel like a child sneaking out of bed to snitch sweetcakes from the kitchen. Grim Tintagel looked like it earned its reputation even in daylight; by night, it seemed as if the vengeful spirits of murder victims were going to swoop down on them at any moment.

Cool air hit her. They were outside, the clear, moonless sky above spangled with a thosand stars the Lake mirrored. Rowena's breath caught at the beauty. Setiva had a far-away look on her face. " This is the most holy time in the Druid day," she murmured. " Starlight is sacred, to us." Walking now with their feet flat but still trying to make as little noise as possible, they slipped out onto the pavilion, pressing themselves against the balcony.

" It's beautiful," Rowena said softly. " I didn't think Tintagel could have beauty, not with the whole thing built for defense."

" The Mists are usually called back at night," Isabel said just as quietly. It seemed improper to break the stillness by normal pitch. " No idea why. Setiva could probably tell you, but I'm sure it's some kind of priestess secret. I love it at night."

Setiva laughed softly. " You should have been a Druidess like me, sister Isabel."

" What did you bring me out here for?" Rowena asked in barely more than a whisper. " I doubt it was for the view, remarkable as it is."

Setiva chuckled. " You will do well. No, we didn't bring you out here for the view. We brought you out here for privacy."

" And what is it that we need privacy this strict to say?"

" I told you I have the Sight. I have Seen the end of you and Isabel's plans."

" Plans? I wasn't aware we had anything you would call a plan, Setiva."

" Alliance, then. There's no denying that it's at the very least an alliance. You'll be my brother's bride, Rowena, but you'll lose Helga. There's no escaping it. If you marry him, Helga will see you as the woman who stole her man. If you don't and she marries him, then she'll know he loves you and not her and that you're probably in his bed whenever she's out of it-which would be most of the time. Godric cares very deeply for Helga, but he could never love her as a man loves a woman, but rather as a man loves his younger, slightly inept sister."

Rowena couldn't keep the coldness out of her tone. " And what thinks he could love me as a woman?"

Setiva laughed again. " He is ever an open book to me, Sight or no Sight. I asked him openly after I saw how he looked at you during that scene in the library, and he admitted it. He wants you. He loves you. It frustrates him horribly. He loves you, but Father and Gwyneth Hufflepuff are bound to make him marry that useless twit Helga. And he doesn't understand why he loves you. Godric doesn't like things he can't understand. How is it that he could fall in love with anyone, never mind a country girl like you. "

" Men," Isabel scoffed. " Stubborn fools."

" Indeed," Setiva agreed. " But even so. Rowena, you can't go back to Lanast at the end of summer. You have to stay here."

Rowena shook her head. " Gwyneth will never permit it. She won't risk having me around Godric more than Helga."

" Tell her you're visiting a kinswoman," Setiva suggested. " You won't even be lying. You know, of course, that your true mother was a Saxoness named Rowena?" Rowena nodded curtly. " Have you heard Helga or any of the others mention a woman called Enna? Yes, naturally you have. They all love her second to their own mothers-so do I, for that matter. Your mother Rowena the Saxoness and our nursemaid Enna are one and the same. Enna is just a pet-name."

Rowena felt her throat contract painfully. " You know my mother?" Her voice was rather husky, she noticed.

" Yes. She's here in the castle, as a matter of fact. You can meet her in the morning. That was what Godric and Isabel meant last fall when they referred to a mutual aquaintance. Godric's Sight would have told him if looking at you did not. You look much like Enna, and she oft spoke of a daughter who bore her name. From the moment they heard the name 'Rowena Ravenclaw', they knew. Isn't that right, Isabel?"

" Correct as usual, Tiva," Isabel said. " But back to the main subject. You can't leave. You can add bewitching-no pun intended-Salazar if the kinswoman story doesn't work. Gwyneth loves you in her strange way, Rowena. She wants you to make a good marriage, and Salazar is a good way higher than her son Edwain, and she knows it.She'll agree, and you can go on to getting Godric to propose."

Rowena hesitated. So much hung on this. " All right," she said finally. " Let's do it. "


	7. Declarations and Intentions

Author's Note: Rowena has become rather like an old friend in the writing of this. I'll missher when I finish all the Founders stories. To Tania: Helga is kind of pitiable, isn't she?

Augusta

The Game of Love as it was played in those days was perhaps bested only by the Game of Houses for difficulty and deception. It was just as well for Rowena that Alienor of Gwynned had been an expert player willing to pass along her expertise. She wasn't going to play by the rules, though. She wanted the man to love her, not lust after her, and the traditional playing of the game would only lead to the latter.

The first step was to gain his friendship. She already had that from the meetings, which had been resumed immediatly, but she began getting him alone sometimes, carefully. He took the bait willingly. After that followed the actual courtship. Finally, at when summer was dwindling, she entered the final phrase of her strategy, withdrawing. She might share one dance with him and not speak to him at all the rest of the evening. She would smile at him during dinner, then frown and turn her head. Her eyes would catch his for a moment, then drop modestly. Finally, on the last day before Helga would be going back to Lanast-permission to stay for herself had been obtained long since-Godric came upon her quite suddenly in the garden. "Rowena." That was it. All the man did was speak her name, and she was rooted to the spot, and nearly groaned aloud at the realization that hit her. In her long attempt to make him love her, she had fallen in love with him. Trapped in her own web.

" Yes?"

" You've been avoiding me, Rowena. Why"

She hestitated, wondering what to tell him. She settled on the truth. " I didn't know why,at first. I do now. I've always cared for you, Godric, ever since we first met. I was afraid of caring too much."

" Caring to much?"

Tears that were unfeigned came into her eyes. " You're going to marry Helga, and I'll probably marry Salazar. We're all but engaged to each other's best friends. I was afraid I might come to love you and ruin both our lives." She was _not_ going to cry.

He sank down on a park bench, pulling her down beside him by her hands. " Did you, Rowena?" There was something in his eyes-something between fear and eagerness, mixed with anticipation. "Did you come to love me?"

She tried to jerk loose. This had been a stupid idea; she had no idea why she had gone along with it. Even if he did love her, he'd still marry Helga and she Salazar because of duty. Duty was more important than anything to Godric. His hands on her wrists were gentle but firm as a shackle. " Tell me, Rowena. D'you love me?"

" It is impossible," she said, trying another futile attempt to free her hands. " We both know our duties, Godric. It doesn't matter what we want, it's all about what Lady Gwyneth and Lord Francis want. It can never be, no matter how much we love each other. Oh, God, I never should have come here in the first place. I'm going back to Glen. You'll never have to see me again. Just promise me that when you and Helga are old and rich with grandchildren that you'll think kindly of the country nobody who loved you." She stood despite his grip on her hands and he stood with her.

" By God, I'll be married to that country nobody or I'll die a bachelor! My father married a pagan for love, so he hasn't got much room to talk about me marrying you for the same reason. I love you." He said all of it very quickly. While she was still trying to recover from the shock, his arms went around her and, without any warning, he kissed her, softly at first and then more passionatly. She thought she was going to faint. No one had ever kissed her before; it simply was not done. Vaugely, she knew she was kissing him back. It was a sharp, sudden gasp that brought them back to reality. Rowena wanted to die on the spot.

Standing there looking at them, her blue eyes round with surprise and shining with hurt, was Helga.

" Helga," Rowena began, but Godric cut her off.

" Entirely my fault," he said almost brusquely. " It was none of Rowena's doing. None. I got carried away-"

" You-you don't have to apologize to me," Helga said unsteadily. " You're a man. You can do as you like. We all knew the reason Salazar was intent on marrying her was so she could be your whore- Mama said that a whore to a lord was the best that a poor girl would ever be able to do, no matter what her titles-" her eyes widened even further when she remembered that Rowena was standing right there. " Oh, Rowena-I'm so sorry-darling, I know what happened wasn't your fault-"

Rowena stared at her. " I was going to apologize," she said flatly. " I didn't even do anything-he kissed me out of a clear blue sky-and I was going to apologize anyway. And you tell me you think I'm a whore for the taking, Helga. You, my best friend, and Gwyneth, think I'm nothing but a whore just because I don't live in a damned castle of my own."

" Rowena-"

" Is that why it took so long to remember I was there? Because your royal highness the Lady Helga is too good to notice the girl the Lady Gwyneth means to make into one man's public wife and his best friend's bedwarmer? My title's as good as yours, Helga Hufflepuff, if not better! My first cousin is the High Queen, or have you forgotten?"

Helga looked, for the first time that Rowena had known her, angry. " The law might say you're Guinevere's cousin, but I know better. No one here doesn't know that your real mother's that servant you spend so much time with, old Enna, she was your father's Saxon bedwarmer and she got with child and when Princess Alienor's daughter was stillborn and the Saxon's baby was born the same day, they told her that baby was hers-that you were hers. Did she ever learn that you weren't, or did the Princess die thinking you were her daughter?"

" Don't you talk about my mother, you slut! I could say a pretty word or two about yours!" Something inside her snapped, and she slapped Helga as hard as she could, nearly knocking her down. With a screech like a cat, Helga tried to throw herself at her. It was a miserably pitiful attempt. Godric caught her and held her easily. Getting his wand out, he muttered something and pushed Helga backwards. A look of dreamy unconcern fell over her face, and she smiled brightly at them.

" Good morning,you two," she said amiably, then looked concerned. " Rowena, what's wrong? You look like you've been crying and upset."

" This garden" she invented. " It reminds me of my mother's. I was crying here, and Godric found me."

" Are you all right now?"

" Yes." _How could I be all right when you called me and my mother whores and now act like it never happened?_

" Do you want to talk about it?"

She managed to force a smile. Had Helga finally lost her wits?" Thank you, but I'd just like to be left alone now."

" All right. Godric, will you stay nearby in case she gets upset again?" He nodded, and Helga patted her shoulder and kept on.

" What did you do to her?" Rowena muttered.

" Modified her memory," he muttered back. " She doesn't remember seeing us kiss or the argument." He looked at her strangely. " She hurt you pretty badly, didn't she?"

Rowena laughed bitterly. " It's not easy, hearing that your benefactor and your best friend think you'll never be more than a madam, Godric."

He tipped her chin up. " I would not use you so" he said seriously. " Never. I would see you dead before I would see you dishonored so." He picked up her left hand and touched where a wedding ring would go. " This won't be as easy as I'd hoped" he said tieredly. " We can't depend on not having more people see than's memories can be modified."

" So you agree with me that it's impossible?"

" Nothing, Rowena, is impossible. As for this, I'll move heaven and earth to make sure it isn't. Will you meet me tonight?"

" Where?"

He thought for a moment. " The library. I'll try to have a plan by then." He kissed her lightly. " Until then, my love."

" Until then" she whispered, as happy as she had ever been in her life. It was impossible, but hadn't it been impossible for her to find her real mother until the day after she arrived at Tintagel?


	8. Midnight Promises

Author's Note: I apologize for such a short chapter. Fate and Fortune was not written in chapter format, so some of the divisions aren't quite chapter length. Despite it's lack of size, this chapter is important, so do enjoy and review!

Augusta

Rowena slipped into the library, trying not to make any noise. Slipping out in the dead of the night was nothing new, but it was the first time it hadn't been to meet Isabel and Setiva for planning. She had brought old Enna-Rowena the Saxoness,her mother-with her as a chaperone. She wasn't surprised that Godric had already thought of that. Neither was she surprised that the two women with him were Isabel and Setiva. They were a part of this to the end.

" Enna," Godric said, surprised. " What're you doing here?"

The Saxoness smiled. " Bringing my girl, of course. What're Izzy and Tiva doing here?"

" Chaperoning,of course." They both laughed.

" We three can go and say we were here at need, if you two want," Setiva said.

" _Setiva!_ Not all of us are Druids!"

" Sorry, Rowena."

There was an awkward pause.

" Well," Godric said after a moment," I have a plan, a plan b, and the beginnings of plans c and d at need for starters."

Rowena laughed. " So much forethought in one afternoon?"

" My mother always said to have several backup plans and to know a back way out, Rowena. I take that advice literally. It's very good advice. Backup plans save the day and neck sometimes, when plan a doesn't go quite as planned."

" Well, what is plan a?"

" De facto betrothal. "

Rowena laughed dryly. " Gwyneth told me not to come back unless it was de facto bethrothed to Salazar. How...ironic."

Godric laughed with her. " Ironic indeed, though I doubt that Gwen will see the humor in it. Gwyneth doesn't have a sense of humor at all."

For the rest of her life, Rowena would remember the events that happened after that as a blur. Nothing stood out clearly in all of it. It was quite surprising when she came back to reality and the realization that she was as good as married already. As binding as a formal marriage before a priest and twelve witnesses, completely unbreakable. She slipped back to her own bed, wondering what this would mean for the rest of her life.


	9. A Chat in the Gardens

Author's Note: Rushing off, so pardon me if there are any errors in editing. Enjoy and review!

Augusta

Helga left early the next morning, before the sun was wholly up. The mists were heavy and it was dark. With luck, she would be back at Lanast in two days. She started crying when it was time. "Oh, Rowena," she pouted." Why don't you come with me?"

Rowena shook her head. " No, sister. I've made my plans to winter here and return in the spring. I may go back to Glen for a time. I will see you soon, and write."

" It won't be the same," Helga grumbled, but she did look comforted.

Her coach rumbled down the drive, and Rowena, Godric, Sophia, Isabel, Setiva, Salazar, Marie, Enna, and Lord Francis were left staring at each other. Then Francis smiled in a fatherly way at Rowena. " Well, my cherie," he said in his heavy French accent. " You will be our family now, _oui_? We are most glad. _Bien sur!_ You are welcome for as long as you like. _Mon dieu!_ If I recieve ze proper impression from _mon belle Guinevere_, you may be family in zuth one day _non_ far away." It could have been her imagination, but Rowena thought his eyes flickered between her and Godric. _Perhaps he knows how it is with us,_ she thought. _Perhaps Godric told him that I am his wife in all but name and bed. But if he does, he says nothing. Could it be he approves?_

" Guinevere?" Marie asked, clueless as usual. " What does the High Queen have to do with anything?"

" It's as close to Gwyneth as you're going to get in French, Marie," Godric muttered to her. "Honestly, your French is horrible. We need to get Monsiur Du Barry back to teach you. _Mon dieu!_ You are an embarrasment,Marie. The High Queen has nothing to do with anything."

" Zank you, Godric" Francis said, clearly relieved that someone else had explained to his dunderhead daughter. " Well, no point staying out until we catch our _morte_ in zis fog. Come, let us go find breakfast! You eat wiz us, Enna." The Saxoness smiled warmly, and Francis returned it. It was no secret that Enna was Francis's mistress still. Absent-mindedly, Rowena wondered if Marie was her half-sister. Setiva and Godric and Sophia all looked like their mother, but Marie looked like Francis.Enna had pulled off passing off her daughter as another woman's once. If you can do it once, you can do it twice. Knowing Marie, though, Rowena decided not to ask. She certainly didn't want Marie for a blood sister, aside from the fact it would make her marriage incestuos.

" It seems strange, without Helga here," Rowena remarked as they ate.

" You'll get used to it," Godric reassured her. His eyes met hers. " Very used to it."

Isabel saved their necks. " What was that you were saying about going back to Glen for a while, Rowena?"

Rowena shrugged. " My tenants need looking after, and I need to review my steward. Besides, I miss home, sometimes. Lanast and Tintagel are very well, but we all are bound to where we were born, no?"

Isabel laughed. " Indeed. I was three when I left Portugal, yet I miss it."

" Why'd you never zay anyzing, Isebelle?" Francis demanded. " You could go anytime you wish."

Isabel flashed him a dazzling smile. " I am happy here, Uncle Francis. It is a daydream more than a real desire. This is my home. Rowena will probably think of it as such, before long."

Marie gave her high, false laugh. " Don't be silly, Isabel," she said contemptuosly. " She'd have to marry Godric, and we all know he's marrying Helga."

A frozen silence fell over the table. _Dear God, don't let our faces give up the game,_ Rowena prayed desperatly. Salazar was the lifesaver this time. "What, Marie, have I been thrown out? Isabel and I will probably die here, knowing us."

" You're going to marry _her_?" Marie asked curiously, her tone saying she thought he might get a better deal marrying one of the dogs. The world might change, but Marie never did.

Salazar shrugged. " Marriage, Marie, is one thing neither party has any say in. You'll be married off eventually, you know, and Isabel, and little Sophia put in a nunnery. "

" _Non!_ " Francis protested. " No, no, no. Zat is not to my liking, zis marrying-off. You will all marry whom you please."

" So we have Father's approval," Godric muttered to her.

" Probably not intentional, but heard by witnesses."

" What're you two whispering about?" Salazar asked.

" If we tell you, it won't be a surprise, will it, Sal?" Godric asked.

Marie sniffed. " You never will grow up, will you, Godric?"

Godric shrugged. " For one thing, my dear Marie, you are probably right. For another, I'm on a mission to teach Rowena how to laugh. I think those tutors of hers in Glen forgot to teach her that one. She's entirely too serious."

Francis laughed jovially. " Zat will not do, a woman who does not know laughter. A woman who does not laugh is a zummer wizout roses, as we zay in Gaul. Good work, lad."

They all stood, preparing to go about their day. " What're you doing today, Rowena?" Enna asked her.

" Oh, I don't know, Mama," she said. " Whatever fancy takes me. I'm growing lazy, living among these rich people. I think I might take a book and go read in the garden after lunch. I've always wanted to do that ever since I saw the gardens here, but Helga wanted me around constantly." She raised her voice a little on the second to last sentance. Godric nodded fractionally.

" What time's the meeting?" Salazar asked. "We are carrying on even with Helga gone, aren't we?"

" Of course," Godric said. " Three of us are here. That's enough. How about Second High?"

" Works for me," Salazar said. " Rowena?"

" I think that'll work nicely," she said. " I'll be there."

They dispersed. Rowena spent most of her morning in her rooms, doing, exactly as she had told Enna, whatever pleased her. There were advantages to this life. It was peculiar, thinking that one day she would be mistress of this place, Lady Rowena Gryffindor. A good name. She surveyed herself in a mirror. She was no classical beauty, yet she seemed to...fit...among the Gryffindors, all as dark as she save for Marie, who wanted a husband badly. Could Helga have truly been happy here, a part of this family? _No, _she thought decicevly. _Helga would have been miserable. She is not like these people. They love her, but they would never fully accept her into their family. Setiva wouldn't stand for it, and Godric would only marry her if her life or his hung on it. _At noon, she dressed carefully, even wearing some of her better jewels. She barely noticed what she ate or said during lunch. Hurrying back up to her room, she grabbed a shawl and a book on philosophy.

She tried to compose herself as she sat down on one of the garden benches beneath a weeping willow. She opened the book and read. Reading could always steady her head and give her a firmer foothold on a situation. She was indeed very calm after a few pages. _Sweet Heaven, I'm acting like some giggly new bride on her wedding night! _she thought. _Not that I'm far from it, a wife forced to set trysts with her husband in fear of discovery. God, what fools we are! How bull-goose stupid love makes otherwise rational people._

" I trust I haven't kept you waiting too long, wife?"

She jumped, startled. " I didn't hear you."

He laughed. " That must be an intriguing book. I am by no means as stealthy as, say, Salazar."

" It is interesting. One of Setiva's books on philosophy. She recommended it."

Godric snorted. " Tiva's some kind of Druid evangelist. You have to ignore her. She's the most like Mother of us."

Rowena considered him. " Tell me about her. Your mother."

Godric shook his head slowly. " Enna's as close to a real mother as I've ever had. Mother was often away even when she was alive, and distant when she was here. Her first duty was to Avalon; she was Lady of the Lake. There was Mother, then there was Viviane. As far as I can remember, the only thing she and Father quarreled over was our religion-my sisters and I, that is. She tried to instruct us in the ways of her Goddess, but Father wanted us to be Christians. It made her simply furious that he had Marie and Sophia given Christian names. Setiva was her girl, her little Druidess. Me, she never cared much for. She owed Avalon a daughter, but sons were of little value to her. How very...backwards... from standard view. Mother always went on and on about how barbaric the Romans were, basing things on the father's side, because how can you be certain of who fathered a child? There is rarely any doubt who mothered someone, though, and the Druids based their heirachiry on that. I couldn't have been much over eight when she died. She had risked a late pregnancy so that she could give Avalon another daughter, or at least a son of the old faith. She miscarried and died. Father had lots of mistresses, but he never remarried. When Enna came, she became his mistress and wound up living like a wife for all he never married her. She looked after us."

" So Marie was born before Mama came here?"

" Yes. Why?"

" Thank God. I was afraid she might be Mama's daughter. She passed off me as Alienor's daughter, so it wouldn't have surprised me if she hadn't tried to pass off another baby as Viviane's." She hesitated, then went on. Trust. She had to trust him. " Godric, Helga said something once, and then I thought it was none of my business, but now-now, it's important."

" What did she say?" he asked softly. For some odd reason, it was then that she noticed his eyes were gray, not black. " What did Helga say that worried you so? Was it to do with Mother or Setiva?"

" She was talking about betrothals the day I came to Lanast. She said that you and Isabel had been supposed to marry at one time, but you had said marrying Helga would already too much like marrying a younger sister, and that the two of you would never agree on titles. She said that it seemed that different words were used for someone in Gaul and Portugal, then she muttered so low I almost didn't hear-wasn't supposed to-'and again different on Avalon.' Tell me the truth. What did she mean?"

Godric looked away for a moment, and when his eyes met hers again, he looked tormented. " There has always been...talk...that I am still loyal to Avalon" he said finally. " It's not altogether untrue, Rowena. I was born on Avalon. My mother was from Avalon. My sister is a priestess of Avalon. I know the priests say that the Island is evil, but they've never been there. I love the place as a second home. Once Avalon's in your blood, it never leaves you. It's like a siren's call, pulling you back. Now you can start lecturing me on heresy."

" I'm not going to" she said simply.

" What"

" I'm not going to. Who am I to lecture you? You, at the very least, can claim legitimacy. My mother worships the Saxon gods, and she makes her way in the world by making lords love and bed her. I'm in no place to upbraid you."

" You have your secrets, and I have mine, lovey" he said quietly, tenderly, touching her cheek. "What say we don't judge each other? Neither of us is exactly a saint, and we are suited to each other. We must not keep anything from each other, just the rest of the world. How does that sound?"

" Wonderful," she whispered, smiling. " Just wonderful."

The bells rang Second High. " Oh, goodness." she said. " We're late! Salazar's going to go on so-"

" Hurry, and maybe we'll get there before the bells finish."

Salazar raised his eyebrows when they came into the library laughing and out of breath, Rowena's hair everywhere. " Do I even want to know what you two have been doing?"

But they were laughing too hard to answer him.


	10. Rowena's Choice

Author's Note: Final chapter! Sad! Oh, well, that means I get to move on to the sequel. I'm having some trouble beginning it-any suggestions? To Tania-my French is horrible and my dictionary outta date, I apologize. To MyOnlyCat-I apologize for the confusion. The beginning ofthat chapter covered the whole summer following the balcony scene, not the day after. That's why Rowena had already met her mama.

Augusta

In later years, Rowena would remember the next few months as the happiest of her life. She was young, she was in love, and she had a betrothed who adored her. What woman could ask for more? Day after day of secret meetings and stolen kisses, all under the noses of the clueless Francis and Salazar. It was too good to last.

It was near the end of November when a letter came from Glen in a hand Rowena recognized.

_Dear Sister,_

_Me and John is well, and so is the babbies. We look out like you said fore you go off to live with Marigan's people. We need you back here for a while so folks know they still got a Lady, or so John says. Cum home._

_Yore sister,_

_Beatrice Ravenclaw Miller_

" I didn't know you had a sister, Rowena," Godric remarked when he read it.

" I don't think of Beatrice as such," she said cooly. " After my mother left him, Father got rather upset. He tried to down his sorrows that night, and woke up in the scullery maid's bed the next morning. Beatrice came from that. He married her to his manager, John Miller, as soon as she was twelve and never thougt more of her. I named John my steward when I left home. Beatrice sleeps with anyone who'll buy her something pretty, and has a baby a year if not two. The miracle is that they all look too much like John not to be his. And she's only fifteen, now, if I'm not mistaken. Yes, she's a little more than a year younger than me, and I'll be seventeen come April."

" Are you going to go?"

She sighed and folded Beatrice's letter. " I suppose. I was planning to go back to Glen sooner or later anyway for an inspection. Might as well be now. If I hurry, I might get back before the snows come."

" And you might get trapped if they come when you're halfway home," Godric said bluntly. She was surprised to realize it was natural to think of Tintagel as home. " I'm going with you." Francis opened his mouth as if to protest, but Godric gave him no chance. " I'm going. I won't have you and Madge and Martha all starve to death or freeze to death on your way to or back, or robbed, or-" he broke off, unwilling to name the last alternative. Not only robbed, but ravished. Rowena shuddered, and Francis closed his mouth.

Which was how, two days later, Rowena, Godric, Madge, and Martha all wound up crushed into a carriage on their way to Glen. It was only Godric that kept the three women from being as dour going back to Glen as they had been leaving it a year earlier, and even his humor was strained by the time they actually got there.

The villagers all watched them curiously as the carriage headed for the manor. Rowena smiled grimly at the thought. No doubt these people had not seen a carriage since the 'grand old days' Madge liked to sigh about, when Alienor held big parties for her friends from Camelot. For all her reluctance to return, Rowena could still feel her heart swell with the joy of homecoming. The little houses and shoppes and chapels, the fields, bare now, and the dark, hardy people it had been God's will that she, a woman of little birth or influence, should govern were all as they had always been.

The little manor still looked exactly as it had, save for seeming smaller than before in her Tintagel-accustomed eyes. All the servants came out in a gaggle, John and Beatrice at the forefront. Fixing her face in a rather painful smile, she went forward to meet her vassals.

" My lady," John said smoothly, bowing low over her hand. " It is my honor and priveledge to welcome you home again. How may I serve?"

" John," she said kindly. " It is good to see you again. Neverthless, it should be our guest you do your bowing to. This is Lord Godric, a friend of mine kind enough to accompany Madge and Martha and me to ensure our safety."

John bowed to Godric, too. " You have the gratitude of Glen, my lord. We would rather die than see any harm befall our Lady."

" _You_ might," a sour voice said. John kicked the owner. Sighing, Rowena turned to face her half-sister.

Beatrice could have looked much more the part of the heiress than Rowena, had she wanted to. As it was, she was a proper little slattern. Her dress plainly hadn't been touched in days, and her thick golden-brown hair was a mass of trailing tangled locks, some wound carelessly around her head. She dropped Rowena the half-hearted curtsy that had been her trademark from childhood. " You're welcome, I suppose," Beatrice said sulkily. " Your house, ain't it?"

" How perceptive of you, Beatrice," Rowena said bitingly. " Go see rooms prepared for me and my guest."

" Why bother?" Beatrice threw back. " If you've traveled together this long, one of you won't be using 'em..."

" Beatrice!" John hissed. " Not all women are as loose as yourself! Do as the Lady says, for God's sake!" Beatrice shrugged and drifted inside, waving a hand for the other servants to follow her. John looked humiliated.

" I apologize for my wife, my lady, my lord," he said, flushing, still bent over in a bow to them both. "She is shameless. I beg that you forgive her."

" I am used to Beatrice, John," Rowena said, somewhat sharply. " Stand up, man. You look ridiculous. " John straightened immediatly.

" I have a sister too like her myself," Godric said wearily. " Marie. At least this Beatrice is married." John's astonished gaze followed them inside for almost a full minute before the man himself recovered from his shock enough to do so.

Rowena had exactly enough time to change out of her travelling clothes before she was required to eat in state and hear reports from John and various tenants. She bore it with as good a grace as possible, handing down several judgements before she was done. Stepping back into her little prison of manners and rules and severity was as easy as breathing in this place. When the audience was finally over, she had maybe an hour to herself-for preparing her speech while John gathered everyone in the liege area to hear. A bloody speech! That was more Godric's style, not hers; she preferred to mind her own business and let everyone else mind theirs. She wasn't really sure what she said, only that it was recieved well and John muttered to her" Very good." He did allow her to eat her dinner in relative peace, but then she had to ride out so that everyone could see her, as if they hadn't done during that damn speech. When she got back after the sun was down and it was too dark to see the hand in front of her face, she was too tiered to do anything save collapse into bed. _I have forgotten how to work hard_, she thought ruefully, half-asleep. _I've let myself grow used to being of the gentry. I have to remember that I'm not; I'm sixteen and a nobody for now. Oh, Mary mother of God, help me!_

Almost two weeks went by without a moment's rest. She woke up tiered and went to bed exhausted. Her headaches, gone since she left and almost forgotten, came back with a vengeance. Still, she couldn't let it show. No one could know how sick she was, or how weary, or how lonely. She didn't think she had seen Godric since she arrived. A letter from Helga reached her, but she didn't have time to read it, never mind reply. John kept her doing thirty hours worth of work in a twenty-four hour day. Finally, she hit rock bottom. Her head felt like it was in a vice, and John kept droning on and on and on about everything she had to do that day. " John," she said sweetly, interrupting him. " Which of us owns this place?"

John looked confused. " You, my lady."

" Which of us did God grant should give the orders?"

" You, my lady."

" Precisely. Now, if that is the case-which it is-why is it that you tell me what to do?"

John never missed a beat. " Because you're a woman, my lady. Women aren't fit to make decisions. You give the orders I tell you to, as your nearset male relative until your marriage, my lady."

" Go to the devil, John, and take Beatrice with you. I will see you at my earliest convienience, and not before. If you presume to come near me without an order, I'll have you and your slut of a wife and your brats thrown out. Are we clear on that? Good. I have something I need to do this morning that has nothing to do with your list." Standing, she turned on her heel, marched out, and shut the door in John's incredulous face. " That felt good," she said to the air.

Godric looked rather surprised to see her stalk into his sitting room at that hour of the morning, and surely had to notice the look on her face. " Do I even want to know?"

" No," she said stiffly. " All you're going to know is what you have to know. We're getting married today, so you know, and I will tell you the reason why. By our customs here, my brother-in-law John can run me the way he has these past two weeks for as long as I am unmarried, then it's up to my husband how hard I'm driven. I absolutely, under no circumstances will I relent, refuse to speak the part of the vows to do with obedience. I am the Lady of this place, and I'm going to be the damned Lady, not the regional parrot. Are we clear on all of the above points?"

" I seriously doubt that I have ever seen you in such a state, little wife" he said with a raised eyebrow. "Something must have happened."

She smiled humorlessly. " I simply grew tired of being pushed around, Godric. That is all. I have had enough. All my life, I was at the bidding of one man or another. Then all the men died, and I was taught another way to live, and it happened I liked it far the better. No more orders. No more bullying. This is the closest thing to clarity I have ever felt in my whole life. "

Everything went forward with remarkable simplicity. They were married withvery little ceremony by a village priest. John's jaw hit the floor when he was summoned and given the news, and went even lower when he was ordered to tell no one. By chance, a welcome-home party had been planned for that night. "Our wedding feast" Rowena remarked dryly. " Followed by the most magnificent celebratory ball. How blessed we are, eh, husband?"

He had laughed at that. " Good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor, wife. You could ever make me laugh. Whatever else I expected from my marriage celebrations, it certainly wasn't for it to be a little country party thrown for another purpose entirely. How strange, the way things turn out. It's almost never like what you expected."

" Amen" she replied, devout as a nun. " Amen." Nunnish instincts were gone and forgotton a moment later as she kissed him.

"How're we going to tell Helga and Salazar?" she asked a bit later.

Godric looked faintly troubled for a moment. "Your guess is as good as mine," he said finally. "Helga will be hurt, but I think she'll make it. Salazar, though... Salazar canbe irrationalabout some things. I think, my dear, that you may have the bad luck to be one of them." She shivered, and he patted her shoulder. "Don't worry on it. That's a long time from now, darling. You'll already be a widow when that happens." He sounded absent-minded, as if not really registering himself just what he had said.

"Don't talk like that," she said sharply. He looked at her, confused.

"Talk like what?"

"Like that, about Salazar becoming irrational concerning me after you're dead."

"I said tha-never mind. I know what it was, now." He smiled and she found herself smiling back very reluctantly. "Remember our motto, dear."

They said the same thing at the same time, the words Rowena had spoken the evening they met. "Let the old cats talk!"

The End of Book One: Fate and Fortune


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